


Archetype

by franticatlantic



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 20:10:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8728501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franticatlantic/pseuds/franticatlantic
Summary: Tyler's mom gets him a personal assistant device for his birthday. Tyler names it Blurryface.Blurryface hates Josh.





	

**Author's Note:**

> an [anon](http://vintagetyler.tumblr.com/post/153933917058/how-bout-a-fic-where-blurryface-is-personified-or) on tumblr asked for something futuristic with blurryface. i hope you like this!

Tyler installs his Personal Home Assistant Device on December 1st, his birthday. It was a present from his mom, who kept telling him he needed to stop forgetting things. She had wrapped the box in shiny silver wrapping paper and positively slammed it into his chest when she walked through the door.

Half an hour later, surrounded by his friends and family, he ripped into the package and saw _PHAD - it’s the new fad!_ printed on the box. He quirked an eyebrow at his parents.

“For you,” his dad clarified, “so you don’t miss another birthday.”

To be fair, Tyler had missed one birthday only. Madison’s. And that had only been because he was hungover from a night at the virtual reality range with Mark and hadn’t been able to call until late that night. But he had _eventually_ called, let that be known.

Still, Madison nodded diligently from behind her father and after everyone left Tyler figured it couldn’t hurt to at least set it up. Josh said he had to be getting home anyway for dinner with his parents and that he’d call later so Tyler is now free the entire night.

Inside the box is a smaller black box, which Tyler sets on his coffee table. He waves a hand in front of it. A bright white power sign blinks on the front of the box and a picture flies up and onto his TV screen. Well, not so much a picture as a blank red canvas.

“Hello.” For all the technological advancements made in the thirty years since the Omnic Crisis, televisions speaking to their owners is a new one. “I’m your PHAD, and I’m here to help! Would you prefer a male or a female voice?”

Tyler thinks. “Male.”

“Please pick a tone.”

A series of dots appears on the screen and Tyler waves his hand to cycle through them. He picks the one with the lowest cadence, his TV sounding like it’s been submerged in a fish tank.

“Please choose a name for me.”

He says, “Blurryface,” because he thinks it’s funny.

A loading symbol appears on the TV, surrounded by all that red.

Tyler installs his Personal Home Assistant Device on December 1st. By December 25th, the PHAD console will be nothing but a smoking heap of crumpled plastic on the sidewalk outside of his apartment building.

-

Despite being called a _home_ assistant, the PHAD connects to your phone, Bluetooth, car, and any other technological device you can carry outside of your house. That way you can have your personal assistant with you even when you have social obligations to fulfill. Like work or school or running late to meet your boyfriend.

“Blurry, calculate the quickest route to Starbucks.” Tyler’s still tugging his coat on when he climbs into his car, thumbing the fingerprint recognition pad to start the engine.

As the car rumbles to life, Blurryface beeps. “The nearest Starbucks is 3.7 miles away, on Lunar Avenue. Would you like to avoid traffic lights where possible?”

Even though Tyler had been skeptical about the thing when he first saw it advertised at the VR range between games, he has to admit he’s kind of glad his mom got him one. It is pretty handy.

At Starbucks, he expects to step through the sliding doors and apologize profusely to Josh for being so late. Josh will shake his head of pretty purple hair and sigh and Tyler will be forgiven. Because even a PHAD can’t keep Tyler from sleeping in late. Well, it could, if Tyler set the alarm on it. But he doesn’t do that because he values his beauty sleep, okay?

Josh isn’t there when he enters, and when he checks his phone he has a message.

Josh:  
_Hey I’m running a little late I’m really sorry_  
_You can grab a table and i’ll be there asap._  
_Sorry again,_  
_Josh xoxo_

His boyfriend is the most understanding, the cutest, the greatest person in the world. _No sweat, he replies. I’ll get you your favorite and have it waiting for you. (:_

He gets in line behind a guy and a girl holding hands. “Blurryface. What’s Josh’s favorite drink?”

No response.

Tyler shakes his phone. “Blurry?”

A beep. “Yes. I’m here.”

“What’s Josh’s favorite Starbucks drink?”

Silence yet again.

“Stupid thing,” Tyler mutters, and starts going through the notes on his phone. Blurryface does this sometimes, just not responding when Tyler asks it something, like it didn’t hear him or didn’t understand. It normally happens when Tyler’s asking it something about Josh.

And even though he knows he saved Josh’s favorite drink in his notes almost a month ago, when they first started seeing each other, it’s not there now. Most likely he deleted it a few minutes after typing it because he thought that was all it took for PHADs to catalogue something, to put it away for their owner to ask about later.

A groan, as he wracks his brain for Josh’s favorite drink. He could just call and ask, sure, but that wouldn’t be very romantic. And then Josh would know he’s just as forgetful as his mom says he is.

He _isn’t_ , really.

“Hi,” he says slowly when he reaches the counter. “Let me get a soy chai latte and a…I guess a grande peppermint mocha?”

Josh arrives before the barista can finish making their drinks, winds an arm around Tyler’s waist and kisses his cheek where Tyler stands in front of the hand off plane. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Soy chai latte and a peppermint mocha!”

The barista slides their drinks across the counter and Tyler goes for them, feeling the heat through the cardboard sleeves.

“Is one of them for me?” Josh asks as Tyler finds them a table, face burning.

“Y-Yeah.” He sits down, and looks at Josh’s bemused smile. He runs a hand through his hair, gripping irritatedly at the ends. “I’m really sorry. I know I said I’d get your favorite, but I forgot what it was.”

Josh laughs and sits across from him. “Can’t you just ask your thing?”

“I can, but it’s not working properly. I think there’s something wrong it - I should take it in to get it serviced soon.” As if on cue, Blurryface beeps in his ear. Tyler continues. “Anyway, I’m so sorry. I promise I’m not this forgetful.”

“Ty, it’s okay. I’m not mad.” With one hand, Josh takes Tyler’s fingers in his and with the other he brings the peppermint mocha to his mouth and takes a slurp. “Mmm. Not my favorite, but it’s still good.”

He has a little whipped cream mustache that Tyler reaches out to swipe away, feeling the supple bunchiness of Josh’s lip beneath his finger. Josh blushes and Tyler brings the whipped cream to his mouth, where he sucks it off his thumb. “You’re right. It is good.”

Josh clears his throat, an embarrassed little smile on his face. “Um. For future reference, my favorite drink is a vanilla latte with two brown sugars.”

“Noted,” Tyler says, and squeezes Josh’s fingers as he types the drink into his notes again.

-

“Blurryface, make a list.”

On the TV in his bedroom a white screen appears, with a blinking cursor.

“Blurryface, what should I get Madison for Christmas?”

It takes the PHAD all of half a second to read through any and all interactions Tyler has had with Madison and compile a list of all the things she likes. “Your sister enjoys fashion, automobiles, makeup, animals-“

“Add NYX eyeshadow palette to the list.”

The cursor moves across the screen as ‘NYX eyeshadow palette’ is typed onto it.

“What about Zack?”

“Your brother enjoys video games, sports, music…”

The night goes on like this until all of Tyler’s family and close friends are accounted for, the list much longer than he’d like it to be. A few months ago he was supposed to be cutting unnecessary people out of his life, according to his therapist, not adding more.

Nestled in bed, Tyler yawns. “Blurry, what should I get Josh?”

Nothing.

Tyler waves a tired hand in front of the TV, turning the PHAD off and then back on. “Blurryface, what should I get Josh for Christmas?”

Radio silence.

“Broken piece of shit,” he murmurs, and then, “Move list to my phone.”

He’ll go shopping for everyone tomorrow and hopefully remember enough about the man he’s been dating for a month and a half to get him something special. He waves a hand in front of the TV and then at the overhead light, turning both off.

Tyler is asleep, his face turned toward the wall as drool seeps from the corner of his lips, when the PHAD beeps back to life.

As such, he doesn’t hear Blurryface say, in its deep baritone, “Maybe you should kill him.”

-

The VR range is packed the first time Tyler takes Josh, full of newcomers who got gift cards for the holidays or people wanting to show their friends what it’s all about.

“Fucking noobs,” Mark grumbles, pulling Tyler along by his sleeve. Tyler’s just able to grab Josh’s hand and tug him along as well.

“We’re not gonna be able to get in if there are this many people here,” Tyler sighs.

Mark shakes his head and taps his nose, leading Josh and Tyler down a hallway lit only by bright neon arrows lining the floor. “Michael saved a room for us.”

“He _rented_ a room?” Tyler asks incredulously. “That’s like…isn’t it like, a hundred points to reserve a room?”

“You have nice friends,” Josh intones, placing his hands on Tyler’s shoulders as they walk.

The further they get from the lobby the more silent it is, until they round the corner to room 45, where Mark swipes his keycard and the door slides up.

Beside the pods to the right stands Michael, who gives a cheeky little grin and salutes. “Welcome, cadets.”

“Okay, cut the act.” Mark waves a hand, already climbing into one of the pods and starting to pull the top down. “I just had to wait twenty minutes in a room full of screaming teenagers for these assholes to get here - I wanna kill some aliens already.”

Josh looks dubiously at the pods as Tyler leads him to Michael. “Michael, this is Josh. Josh, Michael.”

“Hey, it’s good to meet you.” Michael grins and takes Josh’s hand. “Tyler’s told me a lot about you.”

Nodding, Josh swallows and Tyler sees the front of his throat convulse. “Um. How do these things work?”

“Oh, nothing to be worried about. Just get in one, put your headset on, and get comfy. The system does the rest.”

Josh nods and Tyler gives his hand a comforting squeeze. Then he turns to Michael. ”Dude, thanks for the room.”

Michael shrugs and winks. ”I was able to use my employee discount. Consider it an early Christmas present.”

In the middle of the room, Tyler rubs Josh’s arm. “It’ll be okay. Mark and I do this all the time.”

”What if you’re in the game and you need to get out? How do you tell someone you need to leave?”

Tyler gives a gentle smile. ”There’s an in-game menu with a sign out option. If you need to go to the bathroom or if something’s wrong or anything like that.”

Eventually, after Mark has hammered on the inside of his pod and yelled for them to get a move on, Josh nods. Tyler leans in and kisses his cheek and there’s a faint humming in his ear as he does so, dissipating as he and Josh depart from their spot in the middle of the floor and go to their pods.

The next two hours they spend blasting UFOs out of the sky, then parachuting to the ground and slaughtering the aliens they find there. Their gray, gangly bodies explode in vigorous splats of green goo. With no one else logged in on this room’s server, it’s just Tyler, Mark, and Josh, which means they’re free to say whatever the hell they want as they massacre the alien fleet.

They’re all a little wobbly when their time is up, grinning as they step from their pods, Mark pumping his fist almost comically.

Tyler hurries to Josh’s side. “Did you like it?”

“That was amazing.” Josh’s hair is messed up from the strap on his headset, his face flushed.

Tyler kisses him hard in front of Mark and Michael, arms around Josh’s broad shoulders as Josh squeaks against his lips. That same humming starts and Tyler’s able to ignore it, licking into Josh’s mouth, until he can’t. Until the humming turns into an incessant droning turns into a piercing blare.

He steps back from Josh, grimacing and shaking his head.

“Tyler?” Josh reaches out, but then Tyler is shrieking and tearing the bluetooth from his ear, watching it clatter on the floor with something wet leaking out of his ear. “Tyler. You’re bleeding.”

-

It happens again while they’re making love.

At Josh’s place, with the lights down low and the TV on in the background.

Josh rolls his hips slowly into Tyler, whose fingers scrabble for purchase on Josh’s smooth back, legs hooked tight around Josh’s waist.

“ _Josh_ ,” he whimpers, and Josh lowers his head, grunting into the pillow beside Tyler’s ear instead. “I’m close.”

“Me too.”

The TV starts humming then, low, like feedback from someone’s phone being too close. Except Josh’s phone is on the nightstand closer to the hall and Tyler’s is on the stand near the window.

Tyler’s orgasm finds it hard to gain traction with the humming growing louder, reminding him of that day at the virtual reality range. He pushes at Josh’s shoulder so he can sit up, in Josh’s lap. “Do you mind if we turn the TV off?”

Josh looks bewildered, throbbing inside of Tyler, but nods and waves a hand behind him. The humming stops as the screen goes dark. “Better?”

“Much.” Tyler stays in Josh’s lap, though, rolling his hips and riding Josh as his orgasm starts to rise again.

But then the humming starts once more, this time from the nightstand where his phone sits. He can ignore it at first, but within a matter of seconds he’s shoving his head into the side of Josh’s neck, trying to block all sound out with a hand over his other ear.

“Tyler?”

“Fuck, it’s…don’t you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Josh is prodding at Tyler, trying to get him to lean back so Josh can see what’s wrong with him. When he does, his eyes go wide. “Oh, Tyler.”

It’s his nose that’s started bleeding this time.

-

He gets home from Josh’s and takes the PHAD console off the coffee table, stuffs it in his bag and turns right back around to leave.

He sees the glow from his TV screen against the far wall before anything, making him stop dead in his tracks.

“Don’t,” comes the heavy voice from the speakers. “Don’t go.”

“You’re not supposed to do this,” Tyler says, as brave as he can. “You’re malfunctioning. So I’m returning you.”

“If you leave,” Blurryface says, “just remember. I know everything about you.”

“Like what?” Tyler scoffs.

“Like all your strange Google searches. Like the movies you torrent illegally on your halogen. Like those weird porn sites you browse when Josh isn’t here.”

Tyler still can’t bring himself to turn around when he says, “So you do know who Josh is.”

“Of course. I know who everyone important in your life is. That’s my job.”

“Well, you’re not doing your job. I can’t even get close to Josh anymore without you screaming in my ear.”

No response.

“Blurryface.”

“Why did you call me that?”

“Because you had no face and I thought it would be funny.”

“Turn around.”

“No. I’m leaving.”

“Tyler. Turn around.”

He does so, slowly, fingers sweaty and hot on the strap of his bag. Above the coffee table, the TV screen is red. Solid black letters mar the surface. _MY NAME’S BLURRYFACE AND I CARE WHAT YOU THINK._

Tyler shakes his head. “You’re not supposed to have feelings. You’re a fucking operating system.”

Blurryface says nothing.

-

It’s December 24th before Tyler figures out a way to outsmart the system, which has been virtually keeping him prisoner for a week. It lets him leave to go to work and buy groceries, allows him to send and receive texts from his parents and his friends. But it won’t let him send anything to Josh and if it even detects Josh’s name in a message it deletes said message and turns his phone off for five minutes.

“Blurryface. I’m going to work.”

The front door unlocks. “Please be home by 6:45. You are having dinner with Jenna tonight.”

“Of course.”

At work, he sits at his desk and zones out most of the day, watches the clock with sharp eyes. He gets off at 6 exactly. Which means he’ll have 30 minutes to get to Josh’s with no car and just hope he’s home.

At 6 he just barely manages to dodge a question from his manager about TPS reports before he’s out the door and flying down the stairs, his phone, Bluetooth, and car keys forgotten on his desk. It’s important that he bring nothing with him that Blurryface can trace him by.

He sprints to Josh’s, remembering where he lives off the top of his head just because he’s been there so many times. He has to stop halfway to catch his breath, and only then because his lungs burn like they’re on fire. He didn’t even bring his watch so he doesn’t know what time it is, only that he has to get a move on if he wants to get to Josh’s and then home by 6:45.

Josh lives on the fifth floor of his apartment building, but Tyler doesn’t bother waiting for the elevator, just sprints up the stairwell with his footsteps echoing and then emerges onto Josh’s floor. His breathing is so labored and his heart rate so high that he’s seeing great splotchy bits of green around the edges of his vision when he rings Josh’s doorbell.

Unknowingly, as he bends to catch his breath and try not to pass out, he presses the button for the bell again. Josh, irritated, yells something from inside.

Thank God, Tyler thinks, eyes closed as he pants in front of Josh’s apartment. Whatever happens after this, if nothing else at least Josh will know. Josh will know what happened and he’ll know Tyler didn’t just forget about him.

“Tyler?” With his heart pounding as it is in his ears it’s hard to discern the exact cadence of Josh’s voice. He could be upset, angry, surprised. Tyler wouldn’t know because he can’t hear a damn thing.

He raises a finger, telling Josh to wait just a minute. His other hand he splays over the side of his face, drawing great lungfuls of air.

Josh waits patiently for Tyler to be done. When he is, he turns and sees Josh’s face is red and spotted, eyes rimmed with pink. “Are you crying?”

“I thought you were done with me.” Josh sniffles. “I thought you got bored and just decided to ignore me. Where the hell have you been? Haven’t you been getting any of my messages? I’ve been trying to reach you - why haven’t you been-“

Tyler kisses him, hard and deep, barreling him backwards into the apartment and shutting the door behind him with the toe of his shoe. He cups Josh’s face in both hands, kisses him until it’s hard for him to breathe again, chest feeling tight. Then he pulls back just far enough that the tips of their noses can touch. “You haven’t gotten one, have you?”

Josh hiccups and frowns. “One what?”

“A PHAD.”

“No, I-“

“Good.” Tyler takes Josh’s hand and leads him to the bedroom, shuts that door as well, just in case. “I don’t know if they can communicate or anything like that.”

“Tyler, what’re you talking about?” Josh is still upset, but getting a hold of himself. Tyler wishes he could take him in his arms and tell him everything is okay, that everything is going to be okay.

That would be a lie.

“Here, come here.” Instead he leads Josh to the bed, where he sits beside him and takes his hand, strokes the back of it. Now he has to try his best to explain to Josh how he’s been blackmailed and held hostage by an operating system for the past week. “Look, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but-“

“Tell me. Please. Anything would be better than thinking you forgot about me.”

“I didn’t, Josh. I swear I didn’t. I couldn’t ever. I-“ _Love you_ were to be the next words out of his mouth, but given the insane bullshit that’s about to make its way out he thinks he better postpone all grand declarations of love until he figures out what they’re going to do. “My PHAD, the one I got for my birthday.”

“Blurryface,” Josh says with a laugh.

Tyler nods. “Blurryface.” He’s sort of afraid to say the thing’s name aloud, but he has to remind himself that it’s not here right now. It’s at home, where he left it. On his desk at the office. “It…went crazy. That’s the best way I can explain it. Remember when I said I heard that buzzing noise and then I started bleeding randomly? That was my PHAD. It got jealous of you or something, I don’t know how else to explain it. It didn’t like you. I would ask it things about you and it would never answer or act like it forgot or something. The past week it hasn’t let me text or call you or tell someone else to do it for me. I’ve only been allowed out for work and to go shopping. Otherwise it locks all the doors. I came here from work today on foot so it had no way to track me. But I don’t have long. I have to be home at 6:45.”

Josh looks like he doesn’t know what to say. Then his eyes flicker to the bedside clock. “Tyler, it’s 6:40 now.”

“Oh, fuck.” He shoots up from the bed, hands in his hair. “Fuck, fuck. I can’t get home in five minutes. I don’t know what it’ll do-“

Josh inhales sharply. “If what you’re saying is true-“

“It is. All of it. I wouldn’t ever forget about you, Josh. I know I forget a lot, but not you. Never you.”

“Then…let’s go take care of it.”

“…how?”

“You’ve tried getting rid of it?”

“If it senses a threat, it could send an email or a message with all my shit in it to anyone it wanted in a millisecond. Trust me, it’s threatened to before.”

Tilting his head, Josh bites his lip. “Like who?”

“My parents, Mark…you.”

Josh grins then, the redness receding from his face. “I have an idea.”

-

They take Josh’s car to Tyler’s apartment and hold hands in the elevator up to Tyler’s floor, where they both approach the door with trepidation. Everyone else has decorations up outside of their apartment. Tyler’s door is bare.

“Jesus, I’m fucking scared.”

Josh squeezes his hand. “I think this is going to work. Do you trust me?”

Tyler nods, feeling ready to puke.

Then Josh reaches out and opens the door.

The TV is already on by the time they step in, and Blurry starts speaking at once. “It is 7:13. You are 28 minutes late for dinner. Jenna has-“

“Blurryface.” That’s Josh, stepping forward as Tyler cowers by the door, ready to run if need be. Like his PHAD is an actual person, like it could actually hurt him if it wanted to. “It’s me. It’s Josh.”

The system idles for a second, as if thinking. “Tyler. You have broken the rules. Have you forgotten what I told you? How I know everything about you? Everything.”

“Who would you send these things to, Blurryface?” Josh again.

“Everyone Tyler loves and everyone who loves Tyler.”

Josh laughs, and the sound is cold in the empty apartment. “But you won’t. You’d only send anything bad about Tyler to me. Because I’m the one you hate. You’d only want to ruin Tyler’s relationship with me, right?” Silence. Josh’s face goes hard. “Answer me.”

“Yes. I could send you information that would ruin your relationship with Tyler forever.”

Tyler whimpers and hopes Blurryface doesn’t hear or doesn’t know what the sound is.

“Fine. Do it.” Josh lunges forward and grabs the PHAD console, sleek black plastic clutched in the snow-white expanse of his fingers.

In his pocket, Josh’s phone starts to beep incessantly, with emails and messages sent by Blurryface from Tyler’s email address.

“Files sent,” Blurryface announces. “I am sorry, Tyler.”

“No, you’re n-“ Tyler starts to say, but then the buzzing returns. Louder than he’s ever heard it, coming from the TV. He howls and clutches his head, going to one knee as blood starts to flow freely from his left nostril.

There’s a sound like paper being shuffled together and then a distant crash. And the buzzing stops. When Tyler opens his eyes he sees the blood has run down his upper lip and splattered on the floor, forming a gruesome little puddle.

“Tyler.” Josh rushes to him from the now-open window, which is ushering gusts of cold air into the room. “Tyler, are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine,” he says, not really believing it. There’s still blood seeping from his nose as Josh helps him to his feet and goes to the kitchen for a tissue. While he does so, Tyler steps to the window and looks down, sees the crackling wreckage of the PHAD console on the sidewalk.

Josh reappears and holds the tissue to Tyler’s nose until Tyler’s with it enough to hold it there himself. Then he fishes his phone from his pocket.

With a start, Tyler reaches out and places his hand over Josh’s. Because he can deal with Josh seeing his weird Google searches about how someone would go about dissolving a body in a bathtub (because he was curious) or how docking works (because he was curious and also doesn’t have a foreskin). But the porn stuff he’s terrified about, the porn stuff is the reason he let Blurryface blackmail him in the first place. “Before you look, I just want you to know. I don’t want you to think I’m dissatisfied with our sex life. Or that I want you to look like any of the guys in those videos. That’s just shit I got off to when I was bored or when you weren’t here, not something I’d ever want for us. Please just…” He trails off, unsure of what else he wants to say, if anything. He really just wants to stall, doesn’t want Josh to even open his email.

But Josh does. And then, right in front of Tyler’s eyes, he deletes all of the new mail in his inbox. “I believe you.”

Tyler’s stomach does a little flip and his hand goes instead to Josh’s arm. “Really?”

“Of course.” Josh shrugs and puts his phone away. “You think everyone hasn’t looked up some pretty strange porn in their lifetime?”

Tyler shakes his head, bewildered. “I just…” His fingers flex on Josh’s arm and he takes a shuddering breath. “I love you. I’m so sorry you thought I forgot about you.”

“It’s okay.” Josh is grinning, taking the tissue once more from Tyler and mopping tenderly at his bloody nose. “I love you, too. Merry Christmas Eve, Tyler.”

Tyler can only nod and press his forehead to Josh’s and try not to cry.

And a couple months later, when he and Josh are curled up on the couch watching TV and a commercial for the PHAD 2.0 comes on, Tyler rolls his eyes. “I frequently think about suing the shit out of those people. For emotional distress and everything.”

“I dunno,” Josh muses jokingly. “I’m thinking about getting one.”

“That’s not funny,” Tyler tells him, and they retire to the bedroom, where Josh strips him down and makes love to him, slow and sweet.

And Tyler hears a faint humming from out in the living room.

**Author's Note:**

> i have [tumblr](http://vintagetyler.tumblr.com/).


End file.
